Heaven Doesn't Seem That Far Away Anymore
by xPieInTheSkyx
Summary: Set far after BD - The Cullens have come back to their favorite place, Forks, WA and have reunited with their wolf friends down at La Push. Brylee Fletcher, who recently moved to Forks with her mother and little brother, stumbles onto the legend of the Quileute tribe in the form of one Seth Clearwater. Rated M for later chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Oh, you see that skin?  
It's the same she's been standing in  
Since the day she saw him walking away  
Now she's left, cleaning up the mess he made**

**Daughters**

**John Mayer**

1. Throwing A Punch

I awoke to the sound of shattering glass coming from downstairs. Rolling over to the other side of the bed, I glanced at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand.

_1:00 am._

Huh, he was home early.

The door to my room flew open. My mother and little brother Joey stood in the threshold, eyes wide with fear. She jerked her head to the right, in the direction of my closet. I jumped out of my bed and opened the doors. The three of us crammed into the corner with our hands covering our mouths to keep any sound from slipping out.

I listened to his footsteps go into my parent's room across the hall, then Joey's next door, then mine. Through the shuttered doors, I saw him stumble over to the window and collapse onto my desk chair. He just sat there, staring out the window into the night.

My father wasn't always like this. He used to be normal. Then he lost his job, and something inside him just snapped, I guess. He spent 2 of the last 8 months getting turned down for every job. When that didn't work, he turned to consuming any alcoholic beverage he could find, which, in New York, is not that hard to do. Every night now, he comes home in a drunken rampage, destroying everything (and everyone) in his path. It's a never-ending cycle.

I watched him stand up and slowly make his way to the door. Before he could, he turned around and vomited on the white plush carpet.

Joey gagged. My father's head whipped around before lunging for the closet door. He pulled little Joey out by his hair and threw him to the floor. His grimy hands reached for me next, but I was quicker.

My right hand shot up to his face. I heard the satisfying crunch and watched as blood spluttered out of his nose. He staggered backwards and fell onto the floor. I hit him again. It felt so good. His eyes rolled back into his head, fell backwards, and landed in his own pile of filth.

Joey let out one mangled sob from the far corner of my room. I ran over and wrapped my arms around in an attempt to comfort him. _He shouldn't have to deal with this_, I thought, _he's only ten_.

My mom stood up with her face devoid of any emotion. It had behind that way for a while now. She walked over to her husband's limp body, kicked him, but he didn't make a sound. I had hit him well.

"Brylee," my mom said, "Get your things. We're leaving." I nodded obediently.

Joey, still sobbing, wouldn't let go of me. I picked him up and started throwing things in my only duffel bag. I threw the bag down the stairs before running to Joey's room.

I put him down, wiped his eyes and said, "You have to help me now, okay?" He sniffled, but nodded. He ran to his closet and pulled out his little suitcase, while I gathered everything out of his chest of drawers. We both ran down the stairs and out the door.

I opened the trunk and threw both our bags in while my mom threw her duffel in, along with a stainless steel briefcase. It was the family security box. That metal case held our entire lives in its depths. Social Security, passports, birth certificates, everything. My mom was leaving him with nothing.

I watched her stick the key in the ignition and start the car. We were really doing this. We were leaving.

"Where are we going?" I asked after a half hour of silence. Joey perked up in the back and leaned forward.

She glanced over at me and sighed. "I'm not sure" she admitted, "Probably Aunt Emily's."

Emily was her sister. I didn't see her a lot on account of how she lives in Washington State, all the way across the country.

Just then, Joey started to cry again. I unclasped my seatbelt and climbed into the backseat. I let him curl up on my lap, head resting on my shoulder. The tears soaked the sleeve of my white T-shirt, but I didn't care. That was the least of my problems.

I thought about the house we had just left. What would happen when he wakes up with everything gone? What would he do? I closed my eyes in a pitiful attempt to shut off my thoughts.

The next thing I knew, my mother was shaking me awake. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and I could easily tell she needed sleep. I figured we had stopped at a motel or something.

We hadn't.

Rubbing my eyes, I finally made out the illuminated sign for JFK airport. My mom began pulling our bags out of the back and giving them to the man who drove the shuttle. Joey was already seated on the shuttle, looking out the window. Even from a distance, I could tell he was still crying.

I'd only flown once or twice in my life, so I didn't fully remember the process. Security was a pain, but the worst was waiting in the terminal. The lights were too bright to even try and attempt to take a nap. The seats were too stiff for you to get into a comfortable position. The clock seemed to move slower as time went on. I wanted to sleep, but I just sat there, waiting.

I don't exactly remember getting onto the plane. All I know was that my eyes closed as soon as I hit my seat. Someone moved my head and slid something soft underneath. A pillow? I wasn't too concerned. The dream, however, I remember clearly.

In the dream, it was dark. I could just see the outline of forest trees in the distance in front of me. Something moved in the shadows. I backed up slowly and fell backwards over a tree root. A wolf walked slowly out of the shadows and into the clearing. About three times the size of a normal wolf, it walked towards me and stopped at my side. The wolf bared its teeth and let out a menacing snarl, but not at me. I looked over my shoulder.

A man, skin paler that snow with honey blonde hair sauntered out from the shadows. His abnormally golden eyes flicked from me to the wolf and back again. The man grinned impishly, baring his razor sharp teeth at me.

I woke with a start. Mom and Joey were still asleep next to me along with everyone else in Coach. My heart beat at a thousand miles an hour in my chest, so I leaned my head back against the chair and concentrated on breathing normally.

I got to watch the sun come up from my window seat. It was beautiful. My heart swelled with the simple pleasure. Brilliant jets of lights shot into each little window, dancing on the skin of the passengers. Joey grumbled, burrowing his face between my shoulder and the seat to avoid the light.

I pulled out my ticket from my pocket and smoothed out the crinkles. I read the fine print over and over again.

JFK Airport

Flight 546

Destination: Seattle, WA

Departure: 3:00 am EST

Arrival: 6:30 PST

By the end of the flight, I could recite it by memory.

When we landed, we exited the terminal and headed straight for baggage claim. I followed my mom out the door, thinking we were going to get a taxi, but she just kept walking.

We walked for what seemed like hours. Even though it wasn't that warm, the sun beat down overhead, and soon sweat soaked every inch of my body. My throat was dry and cracked, and it hurt to swallow.

"Mom," I moaned, "Where are we going?"

"Just a little farther." She called over her shoulder. Joey groaned.

We ended up at another smaller airport. Apparently, it was the only into Forks, the town in which Aunt Emily lived. The airplane only fit about 15 to 20 passengers in all, but we three were the only ones aboard. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but it didn't help. My mom was shaking me awake again in what seemed like a matter of minutes.

I took the stairs down to the runway slowly and one at a time. My mother was already embracing a woman who stood up against a powder blue Prius. She had straight black hair and big green eyes that looked both Joey and I over speculatively.

"Hi Aunt Emily." I said sheepishly.

She launched herself at both of us, holding me in the tightest hug I have ever experienced.

"Oh darlings! Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. She took our bags from us and started throwing them in the boot of her car.

We all crammed into the car and she sped off through the streets of Port Angeles, the town in which we arrived. It was a cute place. It seemed artsy, like a tourist trap.

As soon as we exited the town, everything became green. Only a wooden sign marked when we arrived in Forks. There was nothing of interest. It was just really… _green._

Aunt Emily's house was near the middle of a long street. Three stories high, it had tan paneling with white trim. A single rot iron lamp hung down in front of the door. From behind the curtained window, I could see a light was on. The fabric flipped up and down quickly, and then the front door opened.

Uncle Simon was tall, probably just over six feet, with spiked brown hair and sapphire blue eyes. He immediately came over to take our bags and began to carry them into the house for us, not stopping to give us all hugs or even say hello. We all followed him in silence.

The foyer was sort of plain. The walls were beige and a metal chandelier hung down from the ceiling. There were three pegs next to the door that already held three different jackets. I'd almost forgotten about my cousin.

A girl appeared, around my age of 17, with pin straight black hair and Uncle Simon's sapphire blue eyes. She stood in the doorway of the living room, eyeing the three new arrivals to her home.

"Phoebe," Aunt Emily said, "You remember Aunt Julia? And Brylee and Joey?" She nodded her head, but I could tell she didn't. Besides she was too busy judging us to try and remember by the looks of it.

"They're going to be staying with us for a while." She continued obliviously. "Do you mind showing them upstairs?"

"Follow me." She called over her shoulder. Taking the stairs two at a time, she led us all the way to the third floor of the house.

It was practically a second house, just not as big. There was a small kitchen and living room with two bedrooms on either side when you walked in. It was like a little hotel room.

Joey and I claimed the bedroom on the right. There were two twin beds facing a mini plasma screen TV, complete with a little bathroom. I threw my duffel bag down and flopped onto the bed on my back and closed my eyes. Joey sat cross-legged on the other.

"I like this place." Joey said quietly.

"Mmhmm…"

Mom poked her head through the door. "You guys can take a shower if you want." She said. I hopped up, grabbed my bag, and ran to the bathroom before Joey could even sit up.

I slid off my disgustingly sweaty clothes and turned the shower knobs. The hot water scalded my skin, but it was worth it to loosen the knots in my back. I inhaled the scent of my strawberry shampoo and let the soap drip down my back. It felt nice, finally being able to relax.

When I got out, I wrapped a towel around my body and looked in the mirror for the first time in 2 days.

My long brown hair had already started curling at the ends. I traced the dark, bruise-like shadows underneath my olive green eyes and sighed. It could've been worse. I put on a T-shirt and sweatpants before running downstairs.

From the living room came voices speaking softly. I cringed, guessing the subject of conversation.

"It was all very sudden…" My mother explained calmly, "He got the notice on a Saturday morning and came home. I thought someone died. He started drinking then, but things didn't get bad until two months after. He just kept getting turned away for everything… We started hiding in Brylee's closet when it got bad." I noticed how she skipped over all of the gory details. "That night, he came into the room and threw up on the carpet. Joey started gagging. He ripped open the doors and pulled him out by his hair, poor thing. He came for Brylee next, but she punched him first." She paused then chuckled darkly. "Guess John should never have taught her to defend herself. Came back to bite him in the ass. She broke his nose with one throw. I was impressed." It was silent for a few seconds after the end.

"I'm so sorry," whispered Aunt Emily.

"You can stay here as long as you need." I heard Uncle Simon say in a hard voice.

Forks was my new home. Great.

"What are you doing?" hissed Phoebe. I yelped in surprise. Three sets of alarmed eyes stared me down.

"Bry, were you eavesdropping?" my mother asked sternly. I nodded sheepishly.

She sighed, an amused smile playing across the corners of her lips. "Well now that you're here… Uncle Simon is registering you for school tomorrow. You start Monday." My life brightened at the thought of a 4-day weekend.

"Phoebe will show you around, right honey?" Aunt Emily asked. I looked over and saw her eyes flash with resentment, but she nodded obediently.

We ordered pizza for dinner and sat together in the living room to eat while watching a movie. Joey fell asleep in my lap, so I ended up carrying him upstairs.

I finally laid down in my new bed and closed my eyes. Physically, I was exhausted, but I still couldn't shut off my brain. I wondered again if he had woken up yet and if he had become sober enough to understand what happened.

That night, I had the same dream from when I was on the plane. This time when the man bared his teeth, I felt panic. Not for my own life. I feared what would happen to the sand-colored wolf standing beside me.

**A/N : Be as honest as you like. This is the first story I've written in a while and it's the first one I've written on here, so reviews are welcome! You can even say you hated, I seriously will not take offense. **


	2. Chapter 2

**And after the storm **

**I run and run as the rains come **

**And I look up, I look up **

**On my knees and out of luck, I look up**

**Mumford & Sons**

**After The Storm**

2. Close Encounters

I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak. Living with Aunt Emily and Uncle Simon was actually really nice, with one outstanding exception.

Phoebe was a bitch, but hey, you have to take what you can get.

For the last three days, I've come downstairs to a hot, homemade meal ready for me at the table in the dining room. Every night, I've slept like a baby with no drunken interruptions in the middle of the night. Things were looking better for the Fletcher family.

It did rain a lot, something else I forgot about Forks. It's the wettest place (or most depressing place) in the continental US.

_I could live with it, _I told myself unconvincingly everyday. I had too. I couldn't be the "Debbie Downer" of the family.

Mom, for once in a long time, was _happy. _I saw her laugh and smile for the first time in months. Joey still had nightmares, but overall, he was happy to be here, happier than he should be, honestly. No one thought about him or why were in this situation. In a way, the family was together, and that's all that mattered.

The first three days passed quickly. Sunday arrived too early for me. With ice in my heart, I remembered the glooming prospect of school the next day. No friends, except for Phoebe (as if she counted as a friend). I would have to do it alone. The school year was only two months in, so it would be easier to catch up, but I still didn't want to be "the new kid". No one ever does.

I was sitting in the window seat up in our little apartment, staring out the window into the forest. It was just after ten o'clock in the morning, but there was barely any sunlight because of the amount of clouds in the sky. I immediately shied away from the thought of more storms.

I didn't know what made me do it, but all of a sudden I had a flash of inspiration (or desperation). It wasn't raining yet, and I had the rest of the day to myself. _Why not go for a walk, _I though to myself. Maybe if I stay outside, it won't rain!

Yes, it was definitely desperation. Obviously, the rain had gotten to me.

The next thing I knew, I had put on my jacket and sneakers and started walking downstairs.

Only Uncle Simon sat at the dining room table on his laptop. I couldn't find anyone else anywhere in the house.

"Where did everyone go?" I asked.

He looked up in a sort of daze, but his eyes started slowly focusing on me. I guess he'd been staring at that screen for a while.

"Your mom and Aunt Emily went out. I guess they took Joey with them. I think Phoebe is at her boyfriend's house." he said, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh…"

"Why do you need something?" he asked eyeing my choice of clothes. I bit my lip.

"I just wanted to go for a walk… if that's alright?" I added, trying not to sound impolite.

He looked puzzled.

"Why?"

"Just… something to do… I guess…" I trailed off. Why was this an odd request?

"Sure, I guess." he said still confused, "Just be careful."

"Always am." I answered slightly amused. Both of us just stared at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. He did turn back to the screen so I figured that was my cue to leave.

The backyard led into the forest. I figured I had less of a chance of getting lost if I started from there. I followed a thin, man-made path for about ten yards, but after I had to start actually hiking.

Every so often, water drops fell of my face, but I brushed it off as leftover rain on the leaves from the day before. The moisture in the ground soaked through my sneakers and socks leaving my feet absolutely freezing, but I kept walking. I checked the time on my watch:

_10:45_

I still had plenty of time before I would be missed.

It wasn't until about 11:00 when I came to a clearing in the forest. Sunlight managed to peek through the tops of the trees making the temperature just barely tolerable. I took off my jacket and put it down on the grass to avoid getting my jeans wet. I leaned my head back towards the light and closed my eyes, letting the sun warm my face a bit.

I was broken out of my trance by the sound of heavy footsteps and crunching leaves. My heart sped up a bit while I got up slowly and put on my jacket. I listened again. All I heard was silence. I relaxed a bit. Maybe I just imagined it?

More footsteps.

This time I heard the deep grunt of what I assumed was a wild animal. My heart sped up again along with my breathing. I began to back up slowly, trying to remember if there were supposed to be bears or mountain lions in this area of Washington.

"H-hello?" I called out stupidly, voice shaky and small.

More grumbling.

I backed up slowly again, this time tripping backwards over a large branch protruding out of the ground. Instinctively, I threw my hands back to brace the fall, my wrists taking the brunt of the impact. A sharp stab of pain shot up my right arm and I cried out. My wrist seared with pain. I looked down and it was now the size of a baseball in diameter.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" I yelled, clutching the injured hand to my stomach.

"What are you doing out here?" a voice demanded from the shadows.

I jumped up in a flash, cursing profusely as another shock of pain hit my arm. I bit back the tears that threatened to break and prepared myself to run. This could not and probably would not end well, and this time I wouldn't be able to defend myself.

"Who's there?" I called again.

A man with no shirt and outrageous muscles stepped out into the clearing. He towered over me; definitely over six feet at least, with perfectly tanned skin and dark hair cropped short.

"You're hurt." He said. The man walked to me quickly and took my wrist into his hand gingerly. I winced, but not only from the pain. His skin was blazing hot to the touch, like he had a fever.

He studied my wrist while I studied his completely unfamiliar face. Now that he was closer, I could tell he was barely a man after all. His overall build gave him a few years, but he still had the face of a teenager.

"I'm fine." I grunted, jerking away my hand.

Big mistake.

This time I let out quite a loud and agonized scream and string of profanities, and the boy grabbed my shoulders to steady me.

"Listen to me," he commanded, "It's broken. You need to go to the hospital." Anger boiled inside me, and I finally looked up into his dark eyes.

"This is your fault, you know! What were you doing lurking in the shadows like a creep? You scared the shit out of me!" I yelled.

He didn't say anything. He just stared at me in some kind of odd, child-like wonder. His lips were parted in the shape of an "O", but it didn't seem like any oxygen was entering his body. I cringed away from his bizarre stare and tried to remove his hands from my shoulders. They fell to his side, but he continued to gape at me like an idiot.

My heart thumped into my ears, and I backed up from him warily, ready to make a run for it at any time. He finally took a step in my direction, and that's when I began to sprint.

"Wait!" he called. His voice sounded to close behind, so I sped up despite my aching legs. Adrenaline pumped through every inch of my body. The pain in my wrist was nothing more than a dull ache.

"Please!" he called out, "Stop! I'm sorry!" I looked over my shoulder to see him less than ten feet behind me. My lungs screamed in protest, but I sucked in what breath I had for one yell for help.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I screeched. With every last inch of energy left in my body, I dug my heels in and booked it back to the house.

I looked back once more. The guy was gone.

Tears started to flow down my cheeks again. It was a mixture of pain and genuine fear that had finally caught up with me. I didn't stop running until I had finally reached the little path I had first started walking on, stopping often to try and regain my breath before going back inside the house. I tried to use the fresh tears to my advantage before bursting through the door. There was no way I could tell them what actually happened.

They were all sitting in the dining room eating lunch when I came in. My mother was the first to notice and was immediately at my side.

"Bry, what happened?" she asked, wiping the tears off my cheeks. I held up my ballooned wrist in response.

"It's broken." she announced after a few minutes of poking and prodding. Aunt Emily already had her car keys in hand.

"Well, looks like we're paying a visit to Dr. Cullen." Uncle Simon sighed. Mom smiled and gave me a kiss on the forehead for comfort.

A hospital visit in the first four days? That's probably a record. One thing I know for certain is that I'm never going into the forest ever again.


End file.
